Chapter 5

Five

Warm, owl-like eyes, filled with what I could only call the kindness a grandmother would have, watched me as I approached the woman who was only a stranger to me not even an hour ago. And yet, there was something about her that called to me, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind and help me carry my items home. It seems I needed more than I thought and I’m afraid it is a bit too much to carry by myself.”

In her hands she held two large cloth bags while around her feet there were four more. Did Danny just drop her stuff here and leave her alone?

Did I have proof that he was the one responsible for helping her? No, but I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like this. She obviously doesn’t have a car, otherwise she probably would have told him.

Forget about ringing, I know alarm bells should be screaming at me, but my magic liked her and gosh darn it, how can anyone be mean to someone’s grandmother? Not that I have one, but if I did, I would assume she would be like this woman. Maybe she would let me adopt her? I could bake her cookies and dinners and… wait, isn’t it the other way around? Oh, we could bake cookies together and share how our day is going…

“Miss?”

“Hmm?” Blinking a few times, I realized I must have been just standing here, zoning out as my thoughts ran away with me. My cheeks heated with embarrassment as I gathered my thoughts, “Please, call me Moira and I would be happy to help.”

“Oh thank the stars,” the woman cried out, wasting no time to start handing me bags, “Truly you are a gift from the stars themselves to be taking time out of your busy day to help someone like me.”

I shrugged my shoulders, “It’s no bother. What are the holidays for if not to teach us we need to take the time to help one another?”

The woman nodded, taking up the last two bags. Hopefully they were the lighter of the bunch, “Truer words have never been spoken.”

“So where do you live?” I looked around, just realizing that with the grocer being in the center of the village, there was a bit of walking going to be done, no matter which way we go. Twice the amount if she lives in the opposite direction of my apartment and, since I don’t recognize her, that is highly possible.

Hopefully it’s not past my mother’s home. The thought makes me cringe for a moment before I return my attention to the elderly woman.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a car but, if it is near my mother’s home I’m sure she would be nice enough to let me borrow hers.” And lecture me all the way to this poor woman’s house before returning me to the doorstep of my apartment complex. Yeah, another reason to cringe.

The woman shrugged her shoulders, beginning to walk away without looking to see if I would follow or not, “Oh, it’s not far. Just down the path behind the grocer.”

Despite the size of our community, it is still small enough that many roads are nothing more than dirt trails leading from one home to another. The need for keeping our connection with the earth stronger than that of convenience for many of the older generation. And with our lifespans going into the several hundreds, that’s a rather large part of our population.

“So, Moira dear,” the woman continued as I caught up to her side, “What were your plans for the day? Surely it wasn’t to find an old woman in need of rescuing.”

I laughed, “No, this was definitely a surprise.”

Behind us several dried leaves skittered across the asphalt surrounding the grocer, their sound sending a slight shiver down my spine, while a dirt path and ancient gnarled trees laid in wait just a few yards away. Honestly the forest should bother me more but, despite my lack of a green thumb, there’s something about the wilderness that calls to and soothes my soul.

“Though I don’t think you planned on going to the grocer and needing help either.”

“Perhaps,” the woman hummed to herself. Her voice low, as if I shouldn’t have heard her reply. So I continued on, as if I hadn’t.

“Actually my plan for the day was to stay home baking,” as we walked along the dirt path that familiar silence that forests have surrounded us, cutting off the ore mechanical noises and electric humming of the modern world, “I had just finished making the candied nuts for Halloween night and was getting ready to start on the soul cakes,” the woman nodded as I continued to talk, humming to herself every now and then. Most likely thinking of all the times she had done the same traditions when she was younger. “When I found I didn’t have all the ingredients to make them.”

Together we continued along the path, mostly in comfortable silence. Every time the pathway would split into two directions she would pick one and I would follow. Which means, after only five or six turns, I was hopelessly lost.

Well, too late to turn back now. I just hope she’ll be kind enough to take me back to the head of the trail when we’re done.

“This forest has its secrets but I know them well. Don’t worry child, we won’t get lost and I’ll make sure you get back safely,” her steady voice calmed my nerves, though her words did make me wonder if she had somehow read my mind.

Despite being the height of autumn, the chill didn’t seem to be as cutting here. The slight nip of cold doing nothing more than causing a red hue across my cheeks. Otherwise it was strangely warm.

Off in the distance a thick fog curled along the tree trunks, casting dark shadows beneath their branches. While little white and blue lights would wink in and out of existence.

“Will o the wisps,” the hushed words caused a small cloud of condensation to form in front of my lips as my warm breath hit the cold air.

“Aye,” the woman nodded and I realized I still don’t know her name, “The forest calls them here when they get tired of wandering and need to renew their energy.”

As I watched them flick in and out of existence I couldn’t help but notice a few would come closer then dance backwards, taunting me to follow. But I knew better. I kept my feet firmly on the path, ignoring their call. Being the heralds of danger, bad news, or even death, following one never did anyone any good.

And I should know better than most.

As we rounded yet another tight bend in the path the forest opened up to a small clearing. Sunlight streamed through the branches overhead, casting a warm glow around the area, making it look almost dreamlike.

It was everything you expected a fairytale grandmother’s cottage would look like. A wooden door and shutters, thatched roof with bits of moss growing on it, and walls made from river stone and mortar. I would bet almost anything there was even a small garden filled with every known type of herb, vegetables, and maybe even some heartier winter fruits, behind the cottage.

Carved into the stone, around the wooden door, were symbols that looked like the lunar cycles, with snakes coiling around them. An interesting choice for wards, but not one too unfamiliar as to cause me to do more than pause for a moment.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” the woman cackled, pushing the door open with her shoulder, “Come in. Come in.”

Crossing the threshold was like being wrapped in a full body hug by the little cottage. Apples, cinnamon, and other warm spices assaulted my nose in a way that made me think of drinking hot apple ciders on a chilly night, while sitting in front of a fireplace, enjoying the evening.

You know those movies and tv shows where the main character gawks at some building and is amazed that somehow it is bigger on the inside than what it seemed from the outside? That’s exactly how I was feeling.

What looked like a simple cottage that probably had the same layout as my apartment with a single bedroom, bathroom, and open living area and kitchen, somehow had even more rooms.

Smirking–pretty sure she brings people here just to enjoy their shock at how powerful she must truly be–the old woman led me through the common area, past several doors, and into a kitchen that was as big as my main room. And forget having to use an old hand pump and basin. She had a full modern sink with two basins and a double door fridge. All the counters were marble and the cupboards were made with real wood, not the laminated cheap stuff most people have. The only old fashioned item to be seen was a cast iron wood stove that was a bit more updated with burners on top.

“This place is amazing.” If this woman has enough magical skill to create all this inside the little cottage I’m actually a bit concerned for Danny’s future safety. This woman is definitely someone you don’t want to get on the bad side of.

“Never mind that. You can set your backpack by the table over there. Then put the grocery bags on the island. While you do that I’m going to get the kettle going.” The woman placed her own two bags down on the largest kitchen island I have ever seen and then walked over to the stove. Before I had a chance to move more than a few steps she already had the fire going and was placing a kettle on top.

Together we emptied the cloth bags, folding them up as we went along. With every item revealed my mind began sorting through all the many recipes they could be used in, starting with the baking powder. As soon as it was all sorted by spices, seasonings, dry goods, refrigerated items, and things that go into the pantry, I realized what was in front of me.

“You were going to make soul cakes too,” wide eyed, I turned to look at her.

The old woman smiled, “Indeed I was, though it’s a lot more fun when you make them with someone than alone. Would you mind staying a bit and helping me?”

A quick glance out the window showed that the sun had barely passed its zenith, allowing more than enough time to stay a bit and help before it got too dark to walk home. Again, trying to keep the reasons to have my mom come get me to a minimum.

Nodding, I began sorting the items by which one would be needed first while the old woman went about gathering up utensils, metal bowls, measuring cups and spoons, cutting boards, knives, and anything else one could need.

As I got busy mixing together the sugar and butter in a large metal bowl, she poured the sour cream, milk, and vanilla extract into another. The familiarity of doing something so simple, even with a stranger, brought joy to my soul. Together we fell into a rhythm of mixing and cutting, rolling and baking. As soon as one batch was made we would start making another in peaceful silence.

After a while, though, I couldn’t help but sigh, taking a moment to stretch sore shoulder muscles before returning to the lump of dough in front of me. “I just have to hope Raiden hasn’t found a new way in and is busy eating all the candied nuts. He has zero impulse control and will end up making himself sick.”

“Raiden?” she tilted her head, her gaze going a bit farsighted as she muttered, “Is he that young man who bagged my items?”

“No,” I scowled for a moment, her words confirming my earlier thoughts before I smiled, “He’s a raven that likes to visit me.”

“A raven?” shocked, she stared at me with her owl-like eyes as wide as they could go, “You are truly blessed to keep company with one of her messengers.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “More like a puppy begging for scraps but he’s my only friend and I would be lost without him.”

“You mentioned your mother,” brow furrowed, she looked over at me before returning to her own, “But you also say you have no one to guide you.”

Shrugging, a feeling of pain tightening my chest, I focused on the cakes. By now we had a batch cooling, another cooking, and were working together on two more. “She’s around but we’re not close. When my father passed we began to drift apart,” tears began to threaten to fall but I took a deep steadying breath. It does no good to wish I had made a different choice, one that didn’t end in his death, “Then my magic began to grow and, well, I’m not like her so I think she finds it hard to bridge that gap between us.”

“Death can be hard,” the woman spoke softly, her calm voice soothing the ache in my chest, “And life can be harder. But know, sweet Moira, that you are destined for something more. The stars have a plan for you, just like they have plans for those around you. Keep on the path, as they guide you, and you will see.”

I bowed my head in veneration, “Thank you for your wisdom.”

“And thank you for your help,” the woman finished placing the biscuit-like cakes she had been working on on the baking sheet and then looked out the window, “You should probably start heading home. You wouldn’t want to find yourself wandering the forest in the dark.”